OMG a Recipe: Mochi Resolution

Is it too late to make a resolution for 2009? Because I'd like to resolve that I will make some sort of mochiko-related dessert before the 09 becomes 10. Call it nostalgia, a wistful hope for luck in the new year, or just plain hunger -- the Prime was feeling her Wasabi-roots and wanted to start the year off right with Mochi, a traditional rice cake that is served on New Year's Day.

Yes, it's pretty... and encased in plastic - Photo by Wasabi Prime

The Prime's family has never been sticklers for shogatsu (Japanese New Years) -- with parents who grew up in Hawaii, the Old World ways mixed with the new, and all that mattered was having enough firecrackers to turn the neighborhood into the DMZ and keep all fingers intact. Growing up in California, my parents and I used to gather at a family friends' home with many others and celebrate the Eve with food and drink. My grandparents were really the ones who observed the old customs like having a kadomatsu -- a bamboo and pine centerpiece that represents prosperity and longevity, while welcoming the harvest spirits. My paternal grandfather used to make ozoni, a savory, long-simmered broth, flavored with shoyu and occasionally butterfish, served on New Year's Day morning with a disc of plain mochi in it, to ensure a lucky year. Sadly, his recipe passed away with him, but the rites of food, loved ones, and the renewal of one's luck is a tradition worth hanging onto, and so we do what we can in our own home.

It's tricky to get a fresh kadomatsu, but we put out a kagami mochi -- decorated stacked rice cakes topped with a bitter orange or satsuma, preferably with the stem and leaf still attached. Thanks to the obsessive nature of Japan, I found a kagami mochi centerpiece at Uwajimaya -- it's real rice cakes, but they're hermetically sealed like King Tut. It's a bit silly to display this near-faux food item, but I'd like to believe it would make my grandparents happy to know a little of the past hasn't been forgotten.

To mix some new with the old, the Prime hangs a wreath decorated with different holiday ornaments from Hawaii and Japan that have been collected over the years. You're supposed to make sure the house is clean before the new year to ensure a fresh start, which I'm sure includes taking down all the Christmas decorations. This was done, save for the wreath and some lights, because I still insist on a bit of sparkle for the Eve. Sure, the wreath is a fake pine, but I'm fairly certain the wandering harvest kami would be down with that, as long as I make something mochi-licious!

Because this is a post of good mochi intentions, I hope to make either sweet mochi and/or this treat that I'd like to share the recipe for. It's from my mother's dessert files -- a creamy, sweet custard bar made with rice flour. It has a little of the sticky, gelatin-like mochi texture, but sweeter and probably more successful on palates unfamiliar with the traditional rice cakes. Whatever you do for New Years, I hope it's spent with loved ones and happy times. Kinga shinnen!

Wasabi Mom's Custard Mochi
Ingredients
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 3/4 cup sugar
4 cups milk (2% or higher)
4 whole eggs
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 cups mochiko (rice flour)
2 tsp baking powder

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease 13 X 9 pan. In large bowl, cream butter and sugar. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each addition. Add remaining ingredients and mix until well blended. Pour into pan and bake for 1 hour and 20 minutes, or until center is firm. Cool and chill in refrigerator. Cut into squares -- my mom suggests using a plastic knife for easier cutting. Do as Mom says, she knows best.

New Years wishes from the Wasabi household - Photos by Wasabi Prime

FoodTrek: BlueC Sells Sushi by the BellSquare Mall

I'll be the first to admit, I'm kind of a crappy Asian. I suck at using chopsticks, our household cutback of starches and carbs have limited my rice and noodle intake, and I've never been a big seafood eater. But I make strides where I can -- I'm working on my weirdo seafood pickiness, as there's really no need to eschew the bounty from Neptune's kingdom. An easy way of doing this is to have sushi, and lots of it. Bellevue's Blue C Sushi is up to the task.

At least they were honest and spelled crab with a "k" for their California Rolls - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Blue C is a kaiten style sushi restaurant, serving its bite-sized om-noms on a conveyor belt that roves around the main dining area. This isn't an unusual thing, as there are plenty of kaiten sushi places all over Seattle and the Eastside, but they want to distinguish themselves as serving quality cuts of fish without being unfriendly to one's wallet, which I can appreciate. Their color-coded plates range in price from $1.50-$3 for the warm bright colors, to $3.50-$5.25 for their range of cooler hues. Each plate tends to have two to six pieces of sushi or other items, so going with friends, it makes for easy sharing and a nice way to try something before deciding it's worth a second helping. I have yet to visit them for their happy hour, where they have special prices on drinks and some of their "blue plate" offerings like sashimi, but I'm very keen on returning after work to celebrate their saying of "skip work, eat sushi" on their website. Amen, my Asian bretheren.

All aboard the Blue C Express -- next stop, your belly - Photos by Wasabi Prime

On this lunchtime jaunt, we sampled a wide range of things, both raw and cooked. Even if you're not so much with the appreciation of raw food, they had options like cucumber rolls, vegetable tempura, and pork tonkatsu. Of course the cooked items are often times fried, but it's just one small bite... can't hurt, right? I particularly liked the sake and maguro nigiri (raw salmon and tuna slices on a small wedge of rice); it's a nice clean way of enjoying the fish. I also liked the sashimi style cuts of maguro that were hovering around on the conveyor belt. A little smear of wasabi paste, a bit of pickled ginger, and whooosh go my sinuses into instant clarity. It's funny how eating raw fish can be more appealing than having it cooked for timid seafood eaters like myself. Since the application of heat can bring out the oils within the fish, the raw state keeps the fishiness down to a minimum, and all you should really taste is a kind of cold, freshness of the sea.

There's the added enjoyment of the fact that Blue C has a bit of a sense of humor. They know they're not in Japan, there's no tatami mats or sliding paper screen doors. There's fun urban-inspired artwork on the walls, and in the upstairs lounge area, they have TVs showing insane, disturbing Japanese game shows. This is a place that celebrates Japan in all its delightful weirdness, and that's Banzai-worthy, I think.

They also had desserts -- I saw some lovely creampuffs riding the food train past our table, but I respectfully declined. I know French pastries are incredibly popular in Japan, but I haven't quite bridged the gap between getting a sushi fix and then biting into a custard-filled pastry. I also saw what looked like toys on the conveyor belt. Like if your kid is getting unruly, buy him a pastry and a robot, all in one place.

I like what they're doing at Blue C Sushi -- it's fast, they keep it fresh, and you don't have to spend a small fortune to have a good meal right in the heart of downtown Bellevue. Because it's right by a big multiplex theater, it's an ideal place to eat something somewhat healthy before giving in to the temptation of a bucket of fake butter. I don't think Blue C could keep me from a box of frozen Junior Mints, though...

Sushi makes you giggle like a Japanese school girl. Ribbons mandatory. - Photo from Blue C website

I did have to post a picture from their website. It's funny and I kind of had to wonder if this is what people really think Japan is like, with uptight businessmen and a one-woman Sailor Moon brigade to lighten the mood. Perhaps Blue C Sushi is simply the Japan people wish it could be, with rotating trains of freshly-made food, bizarre game shows, and giggly schoolgirls of questionable legal age. All I know is, I need to go back and get one of those pink eyepatch bunny toys.

* Post-Script - Domo aplenty to Serious Eats' Photograzing for posting the photo of the California Roll on their site!